His Wings
by theprofiler
Summary: [Pre-Apocalypse] Daryl is a drifter running away from his problems and passing through town to town. Sarah is the family failure after becoming an art major. A bar fight, a bike and some smokes and neither lives will ever be the same.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One – Disputes **

Sarah sat down across from her parents, daring them with narrowed eyes to say what they were really thinking about her newly relinquished information.

Her mother's back was a rigid board as her eyes stared off in the distance behind her only daughter and her right hand was pawing around at her husband in search of some sort of security. Sarah's father on the other hand was glaring at her through thick rimmed glasses and with every passing moment, Sarah could swear that his face was turning a deeper shade of red.

"So," she started trying very hard to limit the sarcasm. "Are we having a staring contest or are one of you actually going to say something?"

Now she had both of her parent's attention completely on her once again. Her mother open and closed her mouth repeatedly like a fish out of water, but no sort of noise came out causing Sarah to let out an exasperated sigh.

"Please tell me this is some sort of joke," her father finally spoke, his words booming at her. "Tell me that for the last three years, I have not been paying for you to be running around with that stupid camera of yours taking pictures of god knows what!"

She blinked at him and leaned back on the "good" couch. "Why am I going to tell you a lie?"

The man stood up with such force, that her mother had to wince back to avoid any oncoming blows that were to come with his words. "Because you have been lying to us this whole time! You've lied to us about everything!"

Even though he was shouting, the young brunette before him didn't even flinch. Instead she sat there, arms crossed and let him repeat over and over again about how she did the family wrong. She came prepared for this and kept having to remind herself that it could have been a lot worse than it is.

When his voice lowered, as well as the rest of his body and his wife was able to wrap an arm around his bicep to try and keep him in his place, did Sarah speak again.

"Are you done with the shouting?" she asked.

The blue in her mother's eyes deepened and now it was her turn to speak, just she chose to do it without actual words. Something about living in this lifestyle will do that to a person, but right now her eyes warned her daughter that she better watch her tongue.

Sarah closed her eyes and took a deep breath, remembering the conversation she had with her best friend earlier in the week. When she opened them again, she knew that she could do this and no matter what happened she deserved to be happy with her choices.

"Yes, I am not going to medical school after I graduate this year." Her father huffed and looked away from her. "I was never studying Biology when I was in school. Freshman year, I took an intro class and just decided that it wasn't for me, but I found my real passion in art."

A skinny arm seemed to flail in the air for a moment, "You can't make a living off of painting trees and taking silly pictures Sarah!" Her mother's voice was extremely shrill, like maybe she had been wound up too tight.

_Deep breath, _Sarah reminded herself. "Actually you can. And according to several of my professors I have a real talent with the camera and -"

She was cut off by her father standing once again and crossing the room in a fluid moment, placing him directly in front of her. It was right then that Sarah realized how much her father had aged in the last three years. He had wrinkles around his mouth making it look like he was permanently frowning at the world and there was a lot more gray running through his hairline than she remembered.

It was his eyes that seemed to bother her the most about his newer appearance; they were hardened. They were not the same brown eyes that lit up when she came home from school as a child, excited to watch movies and color with him while her mother made dinner in the kitchen or the same ones that watered up when she graduated middle school.

Instead they looked cold and empty, and in this moment, like they hated her.

"Sarah, I will not be hearing anymore of this tonight. We can discuss it later." Each word weighed heavy in the air around them while she continued to stare intently at the man she was supposed to respect the most.

It was now Sarah's turn to rise and her frame looked laughable against her father's tall, broad one, but she needed to stand her ground for once; literally. "There is nothing to talk about, _father_."

When her father opened his mouth again, Sarah turned on her heel and headed towards the front entrance of their house, grabbing up her purse in the process.

"Where do you think you are going?" Her mother's voice screeched at her.

Deciding that it was in better judgment that they didn't know where she was headed, she let the door slam shut as she made her grand exit.

Sarah didn't have a car, so it only made sense that she kept on walking to her destination. She grew up in the small town of Marietta and was thankful that she knew of many paths that she took as a child to visit friends and even the drugstore to steal candy that her parents wouldn't allow her to have before dinner.

Her stomach clenched at the thought of her parents and how their relationship used to be, but just when she was about to allow herself to feel horrible about the life choices she was making – one of her favorite places came into view.

_The Dusty Boot_ was a small town bar. Nothing too fancy, but it did well enough with the business that the recession didn't even phase them. Besides it probably helped that the owner had a son who would slip some of the good stuff to any pretty young thing that walked through the door.

Upon pulling the front door open, Sarah took a heavy inhale and remembered that this place really lived up to its name. The air had a stale musty smell to it and with the lot of farmers that would pass through leaving behind the heavy smell of a day's work.

"Sarah!" came a deep voice from behind the bar. "Jason didn't tell me you were in town this summer!"

Peeking through the small crowd of people already at the bar, Sarah could see a short, stout man with a flushed face and balding head waving his hands above his head in her direction. The excitement of Mr. Jacobs was heartwarming.

"Hey Mister J," she smiled at the bartender as she approached an empty bar stool next to a man with a worn down leather vest on. "My summer plans fell through this year, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to come home for one last visit before I graduate."

The older man smiled solemnly at her. Sarah had spent many nights here with his son getting drunk on cheap liquor and expressing her worries with anyone who would listen over the last three years. He knew more than he should about her life.

"Can I get you the usual?" he asked.

Sarah simply nodded her head and leaned back gently on the stool. She closed her eyes as she waited for the heavy glass to clink on the wooden surface in front of her. She could hear the man sitting next to her, shifted in his seat slightly, accidently brushing her arm in the process.

"Sorry ma'am," he mumbled in a heavy southern accent.

Sarah barely even acknowledge him before, but still gave him a courtesy smile. The man at least had the proper manners to realize when contact isn't wanted, but the bar area was small enough it was bound to happen sooner or later.

Just as her Jack and Coke was placed in front of her, another voice seemed to make its way out of the back of the bar. "Well, well, if it isn't little Miss Sarah Allen."

She couldn't help the instant eye roll that occurred. For a brief moment, she thought about the consequences of turning around and facing the voice, but decided that her day was just destined to go downhill.

The stool squeaked as she pushed it outward and turning her whole body towards the boy. She should have known that David Harlen would be bumming it out around the same place that they met years ago.

Her voice was curt and bland when she spoke. "David."

A boy stumbled forward from the shadows of the backroom. His face read that he probably hadn't sleep in about a year and yet his hair looked like he had just rolled out of bed. "Fancy running into you here, ain't it?"

Once again the eye roll was just instinct with this kid. "Not really. The Boot is closer to my house than some of the inner city places."

He hiccupped and took another unsteady step in her direction. "So you are home for the summer than pretty little lady?"

Sarah sighed already, tired of this conversation. "Yes David, I am home for the summer. Sadly."

Somewhere between his question and her answer, he managed to make his way over to her. Against her will, he reached a hand out to her and not so gently, rested it on her shoulder. "Don't be upset little darlin'. We could just shack up together like we did right out of high school."

She cringed at his words and at his unwanted touch. "David," she moved trying to get away from his grip, but his hand tightened on her shoulder. "I don't think that would be a good idea right now."

Something behind his eyes flashed in the dimly lit bar. "What? You think just because you went off to some high up college that you deserve better than me?"

In this moment, Sarah realized that The Dusty Boot had gone completely quiet. Even though people weren't turned in her direction, it was very clear that everyone was trying to get a good ear on what her response was going to be.

With pleading eyes she looked in the direction of Mr. Jacobs who seemed to be busying himself with a cloudy glass. Seeing that she wouldn't be getting an out any time soon, she brought her gaze back to boy in front of her. "I'm not saying anything David."

Deciding that heading out to a bar when she was frustrated may not have been the healthiest choice, Sarah tried to reach for her purse in an efforts to leave. David seemed to have other plans though seeing as his grip got harder with her movement.

"C'mon darlin', just one more night of hot passionate lovin'." He smirked seeing the slow blush creep up her neck.

"No," she snapped, making sure that she had full eye contact with him. "That was a mistake. You were a mistake."

David could not hold back the drunken rage that was eating him away. He quickly shoved Sarah hard against the wall, using all of his body weight to hold her there. Sarah wasn't going to give in easily though and welcomed the thought of a challenge.

"Oh, I was the mistake," David paused and looked around the bar making sure that he had everyone's attention. "You weren't saying that when you were screaming my name for a month straight."

Sarah's face flushed, but not out of embarrassment, this time it was nothing my pure anger. "Get your fucking, dirty hands off me."

David wiggled an eyebrow suggestively. "Make me, darlin'."

The man who was sitting next to Sarah at the bar stood up suddenly and faced the pair against the wall. Sarah couldn't get a good look at his face, but could see that he was significantly taller than David and herself.

The tall man took three heavy steps towards David and tapped him hard on the shoulder. "I believe the girl said she wanted nothing to do with you, mate."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two – Smoke**

The man with the shadowed face and leather vest who had been sitting next to Sarah only moments ago, watched as David ignored his words and continued to stare at the woman he was pinning against the wall.

"Don' make me repeat myself," he threatened with a heavy drawl.

Sarah watched as David ran his tongue over the length of his teeth before very begrudgingly turning to face the other man, while leaving his hand steadily on Sarah's shoulder. "I believe that this lil' heart to heart doesn't involve you, 'mate.'"

The man smirked like he was laughing at his own personal joke before taking a step forward causing David's hand to slip from her shoulder. It was taking everything for her not to let out a sigh of relief and if she knew the same David from high school, she knew that things were only about to get worse from here.

Sarah's mind was screaming at her to move, to get anywhere far away from this situation, but her feet seem to be resisting the thought, practically digging her heels into the floor boards.

She watched as David moved closer to the man who was still smirking at himself. All sound in Sarah's comprehending brain had been turned off. It was like she was watching her favorite television show on mute because she saw David's mouth move, but she couldn't make out the words.

The next few moments happened all too quick.

David got really up in the mysterious man's face. The man smiled darkly and looked in Sarah's direction briefly, but she didn't allow herself to really take in his features before all sound came rushing back to her ear drums with a hearty crunch of what sounded like David's nose being broken.

All at once, The Boot fell quiet. Everyone, including Mr. Jacobs stared at the men standing only a couple feet before Sarah. Well, David was more hunched over, squealing like a baby pig about how he couldn't stop the bleeding, but from a quick look around – no one was really rushing to help him.

"You fucking asshole," he seethed through clenched teeth.

Once again, the man in the leather vest did nothing, but smile at him. Without another word, everyone watched as he turned back to his bar stool, nodded at the local bartender and quickly downed what was left of his amber colored drink before turning on his heel and heading towards the exit.

This time Sarah's feet couldn't seem to move quick enough to follow his lead away from all the judgmental stares. She followed at a steady pace, but her mouth was parched of all words, so she used this moment to really take in what the man looked like, at least from behind.

From the distance, and what she could see in the bar, she knew he was a taller man. He practically tower over David when he tried to get in his face; like a small child trying to reach the Christmas presents from the top shelf of the closet. The vest he was wearing looked to have worn out angel wings that stretched the length of his torso, and his arms looked to be very built and toned. It was no wonder it only took one swing for David to be on the floor.

The man suddenly stopped and Sarah held her breath. "Is there any reason you're followin' me?" he asked into the night.

Sarah knew the question was for her, but once again she couldn't bring herself to speak. Not once had anyone ever felt the need to stand up for her in her entire life. She always was told that the only way to get somewhere in life was to stand up for herself and her beliefs and, yet, her own parents said they can't handle her doing something she is passionate about.

The man took her silence as a concern and turned around to face Sarah. He turned thinking that he was going to see some scared little girl who wanted to thank him for helping her out, but instead he saw the small brunette with cinched eyebrows and a pursed mouth.

He sauntered to where she stood frozen in the parking lot. "Can I help you with somethin'?"

Sarah narrowed her eyes and continued to glare at him. She still couldn't make out much of his face as dusk had fallen over the town, but she see that his hair was short, but shaggy and he had something like a five o'clock shadow running over his chin.

She didn't think before she spoke. "I didn't need your help back there."

This got a hearty chuckle from the man. He laughed until he looked like he was almost on the verge of tears and clutching his stomach for air. "Now, that isn' what I saw."

Almost like instant déjà vu, Sarah took a giant step forward towards the man. She held her chin up high and pushed her chest out, sizing up the fellow. "You didn't even allow for anything else to happen. That was just the start of it."

The leftover smirk that was still plastered on his face, vanished in an instant. "I saw a silly little girl, pinned against the wall with no chance of gettin' away. But you're righ', you had it all under control."

The pair stared at each other intensely for a moment before she found herself producing word vomit once again. "What's your name?"

"I don' see why you need to know tha'."

Another step closer and Sarah could almost brush her chin to his rising and falling chest. "You 'helped' me," she smirked. "The least you can do is tell me your name."

The man stared at her, allowing his eyes to fully scan her face. She wasn't a threat he had to worry about in this town, even if she was trying to make herself out to handle her own shit. "Daryl."

"Daryl," she repeated back, lowering herself back on her heels and letting his name roll around in her mouth.

Once again, they just stared at each other lost in their own thoughts. Sarah was still frustrated at herself, but grateful for Daryl stepping in, even if she wasn't going to admit that. Daryl was feeling slightly uncomfortable with the silence between them and the pack of cigarettes he bought were practically burning a hole in his pants pocket.

"You aren't going to ask me what my name is."

Daryl looked down at her and her big green eyes that seemed to have simmered down quite a bit since the start of the conversation. "Nope. I don' need to."

He turned back around and started walking towards his destination again, but sighed at the crunching of gravel trailing behind him. "What?" she asked his back, with a slight bite in her tone.

Reaching in his jeans, Daryl managed to pull a single smoke out of the pack, placing it gingerly between his lips and feeling up his vest for a light. "Your name is Sarah Allen." He found the liquid flame in the right breast pocket. "It was repeated a coupl' times back there."

That seemed to shut Sarah up, but he could still hear her feet dragging behind him. Deciding that he really didn't want some girl following him back to his dingy motel room if it didn't look like he was going to get lucky, he stopped walking and turned back around while focusing his attention on lighting the cigarette.

Taking a heavy inhale, he looked at Sarah's frame through the smoke. "There somethin' else you need?"

"Actually I'd kill for a smoke."

That caught Daryl off guard enough that he had to pause and really think about where his smokes were again. Sarah did not appear the type of girl to smoke, but then again he saw her in a bar where the owner knew her name and a guy was pissed she wouldn't give it up again to him.

He handed her the cigarette with caution and was stunned when she took his out of his mouth and held it up to her own while inhaling. A couple seconds later and he had his own smoke in his hand and she was waving at him while heading back to the bar.

_Who the hell did this girl think she was?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three – Rounds**

Daryl let out a heavy sigh, as The Dusty Boot came back into his line of sight. It hadn't even been a full day before his thoughts were begging to be drowned with taste of whiskey.

For a brief moment, Daryl caught himself thinking about his mother and father. Hell, he even found himself thinking about Merle and wondering what he was up to, but that all faded into the background as the scents of stale cigarette smoke and bleach hit him like a truck.

_Dammit Dixon_, his mind started up again. _This ain't the time_.

His thoughts vanished when the door slammed shut behind him. As he approached the bar, he took a brief glance around and noticed that it was early enough in the evening that only the day drinkers seemed to be huddled about in various spots, holding their glasses close. He also noted that most of the fellow alcoholics there were alone, himself included.

With his back towards Daryl, the stout bartender from last night quipped a quick question. "What can I get for you today?"

"Old Grand-Dad, on the rocks," his gruff answer seemed to echo through the quietness of the place.

At his order, the bartender seemed to stiffen from his spot in front of the register where it looked like he was counting the money that was there. With his spine in a straight line, he turned his whole body around gingerly towards Daryl to meet his gaze with wide eyes and pale skin. "It's you."

Daryl didn't know how to respond to that considering that he had only met the man once, if you consider an introduction as making eye contact when handed a drink. He thought back to last night and how he seemed to hold everyone's attention, he realized that maybe this small town had never experienced a real bar fight before.

_That wasn't even the worst of the ones I've been in, _he laughed inwardly to himself.

Instead of high tailing it out of there, Daryl sat in the same bar stool as last night and just stared at the man in front of him, toying if he wanted to play along with this game or not. "I dunno what you mean."

A chubby finger jabbed at him, coming uncomfortably close to his face, but Daryl didn't wince back. "You made a mess of my bar. That young man you hit last night has been coming here as a loyal customer for quite some time and now he is threatening to take business elsewhere."

"That ain't any of my concern."

The bartender huffed and closed his eyes. It looked like he was taking deep and heavy breaths to calm himself down, but it didn't matter to Daryl. He wasn't going anywhere.

Daryl kept his eyes steady as the man opened his eyes and seemed disappointed that he hadn't even budge from the spot he was in. Annoyed, he sighed and huffed out more hot air. "Old Grand-Old, you say?"

The rough looking outsider simply nodded and watched as his drink was sloppy made and thrown down in front of him before the bartender went back to making himself look busy. _Prick, _he thought while taking a heavy swig. Daryl didn't mind though, booze was booze and he would take what he could get, especially because most days it didn't come cheap.

For once in his life, he was actually trying to enjoy the smoothness of his whiskey. He didn't want to down the whole thing and have to wait an hour for the bartender to realize he was on empty and just be hoping that he would leave. Daryl was no way, in hell, heading up north to one of those stupid college bars that someone had mention to him with his first arrived and was looking for the local watering hole.

He seemed to have been so lost in his thoughts about other places to get drunk, that he didn't hear the stool to his left squeak back. "Is this seat taken?"

"Help yerself."

Another swig from his glass and he could hear the stool still squeaking back and forth repeatedly. The occupant seemed to be having trouble getting closer to the counter. Daryl eventually turned to look over and saw a familiar brunette struggling to no ends, and looking beyond pissed off at her situation.

The chuckle escaped his lips before he could even stop himself, earning him a startled look from Sarah and some of The Boot's other patrons. "Strugglin'?"

She huffed, but didn't answer his question. She stopped trying to move the stool and crossed her arms across her chest with her eyes set to glower at him, making her look like a pissed off dwarf in the over elongated chair. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't allow himself to look away, she didn't need the satisfaction of feeling all big and tough. "Wettin' my lips."

"There are other bars, you know? All you have to do is travel farther up north towards the lake and-"

Daryl cut her off. "I ain't going to some college bars."

She smirked and waved at the man behind the counter, motioning him over in their direction. "Aw, is Daryl afraid of conversation with some who has a decent education?"

"I'm talkin' to you, ain't I?" He stated while taking another swig of his whiskey.

She froze, but only for a second before the bartender returned with at least four shots of something clear in hand. He heard her thank him once again to which the man told her that it was never a problem. Daryl didn't have to look to know that he was being watched with heavy eyes.

Daryl turned his attention back to his drink, reminding himself that he was only here for another night and then he wouldn't have to deal with these people, hopefully, ever again. When he brought his glass back to the surface of the bar, he was quite surprised to see two of those clear shots waiting for him.

He heard Sarah wiggle a little more on his left before clearing her throat. Daryl peeked at her from the side and saw that she had turned her whole body in his direction and was staring at him expectantly.

"Um," she cleared her throat again, almost like she was nervous all of the sudden. "I think I owe you an apology."

Now she had Daryl's full attention on her. He could tell that just by turning his own body to meet hers and causing their knees to bump from lack of space, she was even more uncomfortable. Oh, he was going to have fun with this. "Whys that?"

Determination had set into her eyes, but she wasn't looking him head on. It almost looked like she was focusing on the wall behind him. "I was a bitch yesterday," he tried not to choke on his whiskey, earning him a frown in the process. "You.. You helped me when no one else would. I should have thanked you for that, but instead I was angry."

Daryl didn't say anything. He just continued to look at the woman sitting next to him, trying to figure her out. Last night, all her could really make out was that she was petite thing with long, dark hair and quite the attitude to match. Now, he could see that her pout could get her in some serious trouble with the wrong crowd and those eyes of hers were giving away way more than she probably wanted.

When she actually brought her eyes to level with his, Daryl couldn't convey just what she seemed to be pushing through.

Daryl ducked his head and focused at the fact that he could almost see the bottom of his glass and didn't even have the slightest buzz. "I don't need no thanking."

He heard her sigh. "Yes, you do. I shouldn't take my family issues out on you."

"Family issues?"

Daryl looked back up at her and noted that she had one of the shot glasses in her hand and was motioning for him to pick up the one she had placed by him. "First, I need something in my system."

He nodded to that and picked up the small glass. Daryl was never one for shots, they always fucked him over in the end, but he couldn't say no to free alcohol. Must be a family trait. The miniature cup felt cool and smooth in his calloused hands as he brought it to his lips. He tossed the drink back without any hesitation.

As the burning followed, he noted that Sarah had barely even batted an eye with her round. Daryl would be lying if he didn't say he was impressed. "So, problems back home?" He pushed.

With an excessive breath, Sarah launched into a rant about how her parents just couldn't seem to accept the fact that going into a medical field wasn't something that she wanted to do for the rest of her life. She explained that her passion involved running around the world and capturing it through a small lens. Her voice cracked here and there, but especially when she spoke about how angry her father had gotten at her news.

"I just want to wake up every morning and be happy with what I do," she whispered picking up the fourth or fifth shot glass that the bartender had brought over and bringing it to her lips.

Daryl nodded in agreement. He would never be able to understand that parents actually wanted their children to go off to school and make something of themselves, but he could at least agree that they could be real shitheads when it wasn't exactly how they wanted things to go.

He watched as she took the shot with ease. "Family ain't always the best."

Sarah looked over at him and he noted that her eyes were starting to look a bit clouded over. "Daryl?"

At his name on her lips, he sat a bit taller. "Yeah?"

"Do you have to go?"

The question through him off and he knew that it was just the liquor talking, but against his better judgment he answered her. "Got nowhere to go."

She smiled at his answer before turning back around and waving her hand up in the air. "Good, because I'm ordering another round."

* * *

><p><strong>Author Note: <strong>Hope you are enjoying it so far! Can't wait to hear what you think about everything so far. Even though it's not much, things will really be picking up within the next couple of chapters. Expect another update sometime soon.


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